THANKSGIVING by Ellen M. Ferris

Happy Holidays to everyone! Please enjoy a reflective Thanksgiving poem written by Ellen M. Ferris (1843-1876), daughter of Charles Drake Ferris (1812-1850) and niece of Warren Angus Ferris (1810-1873). This poem was published in a Buffalo, New York newspaper (date unknown). Ms. Ferris clipped this and over a 1000 published poems which she admired (including her own) and placed them in her commonplace book collection. The poetry can be found in the Ferris/Lovejoy collection of family papers at Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah.

THANKSGIVING

 By Ellen M. Ferris

Through sombre aisles and vaulted roof

    The organ-tones are swelling,

Their grand and solemn harmonies

    Of some high service telling;

And now in murmurs soft and low,

    And now in cadence thrilling,

With under-tones of melody

    The singers’ voices filling.

“All glory be to God on high”-

    So chant the choral voices-

“In whom we live and breathe and move,

     In whom the world rejoices;

Who sends the sunshine and the rain,

    With food for all the living;

To Him our grateful hearts we raise

    With praises and thanksgiving.”

A mother to the chancel rail

    Her little child is leading,

With rich thank-offerings to God,

    Who heard her anguished pleading.

But while for mercies great and strange

    Her costly tribute paying,

Forgets the mercies day by day

    Upon her path arraying.

For each day is a miracle

    Of blessing and forgiving;

God’s tender pity, like the sky,

    Enfoldeth all the living.

We take the gifts His bounty sends

    Ungrateful and cold-hearted,

Without a thought of love or praise,

    Till from us they are parted.

We set aside one meagre day

    Of all our yearly treasure,

Wherewith to pay the homage due

    For blessings beyond measure.

But Thou be merciful, O God,

    Consider Thou our weakness;

Accept the tribute which we pay,

    Though late, with awe and meekness.

Turn Thou our hearts, that we may see

    All things are of Thy sending,

And lift an endless song of praise

    For mercies never-ending;

Till all the radiant angelhood

    Shall aid our poor endeavor

To magnify the Lord our God,

    And praise His name forever.

 Blog written by Christine Cohen. Great granddaughter (X3) of Warren Angus Ferris. Great granddaughter (X2) of Henry Ferris.

Descendants of those buried in the Warren Ferris Cemetery and anyone interested in sharing historical information about the cemetery are encouraged to write with stories, additions, and corrections.  Please contact me at greyhairfarm@yahoo.com

Julia N. (Judy) Davis reflects on tales of family history

Growing up in a small sleepy Texas town, whose claim to fame was “Sausage Capital of Texas,” left plenty of time to get into trouble or harass your parents because you were bored. My mother was determined that my sister and I would learn historical stories about our ancestors during our free time.

My mother, Nell Been Davis, first introduced us to our great-great grandfather, Warren Angus Ferris, who soon became a “regular guest” at our dinner table. We learned why Grandpa Ferris left his home in New York and became a “Mountain Man” in the Wild West. The reason is still a modern-day problem in families - he and his mother argued about his smoking. We heard outrageous stories about his travels throughout Wyoming and the area that is now known as Yellowstone National Park.

These stories led us into the elementary elements of basic historical research. These were pre-computer days and no internet. That left reading books, visiting Cemeteries and Court Houses. Today, my sister and I still report that we grew up in cemeteries.

In 2019 the Texas Historical Foundation held a board meeting in Jackson, Wyoming. Why Jackson? Back in 1836 this area was considered part of Texas. Fifty miles to the south of Jackson is a small town named Pinedale, home of the Museum of the Mountain Man. A cousin of mine (also a great-great granddaughter of WAF) was traveling with me and we made the scenic drive to see the museum.

The museum was much more than we ever expected. Not seeing WAF’s name among the names mentioned, I sought out the executive director and asked him one question: “Does the name Warren Angus Ferris mean anything to you?” His response was “MEAN ANYTHING?!?! If it were not for Ferris, we would not have this museum. He was literate and wrote beautiful descriptions of the wildlife, geography and the different Indian tribes. Most mountain men were illiterate and could neither read nor write.” The descriptions Ferris sent to his family back in New York eventually became the book LIFE IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. And, yes, my mother had me reading the book when I was 10 years old.

My plea to you is to tell stories of your ancestors to the young members in your family - children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews - and build the excitement of your ancestors in their young minds. I felt sorry for my childhood friends who knew nothing of their extended families. And most of them hated history when they were forced to take history classes in school. Me? I was a history major in college.

Julia N. (Judy) Davis

Great-great granddaughter of Warren Angus Ferris

Descendants of those buried in the Warren Ferris Cemetery and anyone interested in sharing historical information about the cemetery are encouraged to write with stories, additions, and corrections.  Please contact greyhairfarm@yahoo.com

Buffalo Hunting: An Excerpt from "Life in the Rocky Mountains"

“Life in the Rocky Mountains” is an eloquently written journal by Warren Angus Ferris (WAF) in which he recorded his adventures after joining the American Fur Company trapping, trading, hunting expedition to the Rocky Mountains. The journey began February 16, 1830, when WAF was only 17 years old and continued into 1835. His recordings provide insight from his experiences which he poetically described the vast, untamed lands stretching across the American Northwest. He beautifully chronicles the wilderness, Native American tribes and their cultures, and the trade that was the foundation of the westward expansion.

In Chapter V of the journal, WAF uses delicate eloquence to paint an image of the majestic buffalo herds on the Nebraska plains near the Platte River. On the 14th day of May, the company finally encountered their long-pursued buffalo prize. While reading this, just imagine a boy of 17 from Buffalo, New York, witnessing these breathtaking sights and having such deep appreciation for the beauty of it all, that he recorded it in a diary to share with others. Fortunately, WAF was able to capture a scenic moment in time when the American plains were literally covered with buffalo. Based on his words, the experience must have been joyous for him, and it is certainly awe-inspiring to read today.

On the fourteenth, hurrah, boys! we saw a buffalo; a solitary, stately old chap, who did not wait an invitation to dinner, but toddled off with his tail in the air.  We saw on the sixteenth a small herd of ten or twelve, and had the luck to kill one of them.  It was a patriarchal fellow, poor and tough, but what of that? we had a roast presently, and champed the gristle with a zest.  Hunger is said to be a capital sauce, and if so our meal was well seasoned, for we had been living for some days on boiled corn alone, and had the grace to thank heaven for meat of any quality.  Our hunters killed also several antelopes, but they were equally poor, and on the whole we rather preferred the balance of the buffalo for supper.  People soon learn to be dainty, when they have a choice of viands.  Next day, oh, there they were, thousands and thousands of them!  Far as the eye could reach the prairie was literally covered, and not only covered but crowded with them.  In very sooth it was a gallant show; a vast expanse of moving, plunging, rolling, rushing life - a literal sea of dark forms, with still pools, sweeping currents, and heaving billows, and all the grades of movement from calm repose to wild agitation.  The air was filled with dust and bellowings, the prairie was alive with animation, - I never realized before the majesty and power of the mighty tides of life that heave and surge in all great gatherings of human or brute creation.  The scene had here a wild sublimity of aspect, that charmed the eye with a spell of power, while the natural sympathy of life with life made the pulse bound and almost madden with excitement.  Jove but it was glorious! and the next day too, the dense masses pressed on in such vast numbers, that we were compelled to halt, and let them pass to avoid being overrun by them in a literal sense.  On the following day also, the number seemed if possible more countless than before, surpassing even the prairie‑ blackening accounts of those who had been here before us, and whose strange tales it had been our wont to believe the natural extravagance of a mere travellers' turn for romancing, but they must have been true, for such a scene as this our language wants words to describe, much less to exaggerate.  On, on, still on, the black masses come and thicken - an ebless deluge of life is moving and swelling around us!

As years passed in his journey, WAF noted in Chapter LIX, his concern about the senseless slaughter of millions of buffalo for sport and predicted their annihilation within 10 years from that period.

Beaver and other kinds of game become every year more rare; and both the hunters and Indians will ultimately be compelled to herd cattle, or cultivate the earth for a livelihood; or in default of these starve.  Indeed the latter deserve the ruin that threatens their offspring, for their inexcusable conduct, in sacrificing the millions of buffalo which they kill in sport, or for their skins only. 

It is a prevailing opinion among the most observing and intelligent hunters, that ten years from this period, a herd of buffalo will be a rare sight, even in the vast plain between the Rocky Mountains, and the Mississippi. Though yet numerous, they have greatly decreased within the last few years.  The fact is alarming and has not escaped the notice of some shrewd Indians, who however believe the evil to be unavoidable.

Introduction to Life in the Rocky Mountains, by W. A. Ferris (mtmen.org)

Blog written by Christine Cohen. Great granddaughter (X3) of Warren Angus Ferris. Great granddaughter (X2) of Henry Ferris.

Descendants of those buried in the Warren Ferris Cemetery and anyone interested in sharing historical information about the cemetery are encouraged to write with stories, additions, and corrections.  Please contact me at greyhairfarm@yahoo.com

The Making of a Historic Texas Cemetery

Suzanne Starling, the author of “Land is the Cry! Warren Angus Ferris, Pioneer Texas Surveyor and Founder of Dallas County”, recently passed away at the age of 89.  She was an author, educator, researcher, and historian. Her sharp mind and unwavering tenacity created a beautiful book which was the culmination of 14 years of research on the early west pioneer. She was instrumental in obtaining recognition of the old Ferris burial ground as a Historic Texas Cemetery. A great deal of her research material was obtained from the Ferris-Lovejoy family papers collection housed in the L. Tom Perry Special Collections department of The Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah. The collection is comprised of 10 boxes which includes correspondence, legal documents, genealogy, memorabilia, poetry, literary manuscripts, photographs, etc. dating from 1771-1964. Upon its inception, the Special Collections Department set a goal to collect materials that document Mormon Americana and materials that document the history of the American west. Because Warren Angus Ferris was known as an early west trapper, cartographer, and diarist, his family documents and his map entitled “Map of the Northwest Fur Country” were purchased and are preserved by BYU. 

As a great-granddaughter (X3) of Warren Angus Ferris (WAF), I’ve had great curiosity about the Ferris-Lovejoy collection. I’ve visited the collection 4 times in the past 5 years. Most of the collection is correspondence between WAF and his mother and siblings. The Lovejoy portion of the collection pertains mostly to WAF’s half-brother, A. Clarence (Joshua).  It’s a marvelous collection of beautiful letters, poetry, and diaries written by the Ferris-Lovejoy family members.  This collection was compiled by Mr. Walter McCausland, a stamp collector and historian.   

Within the collection I found quite a bit of information about the Ferris family cemetery. Ferris homesteaded on 640 acres in the area of White Rock Lake, which is now includes the Forest Hills community. Upon the death of his young son in 1847, he donated a plot of land for a community cemetery and buried his child there.  Ferris, his second wife Frances, and 5 children are buried there.  The Ferris cemetery is now 176 years old. It is estimated that there are over 100 graves in the cemetery.  

A great deal of the cemetery history found in the collection was passed from generation to generation through oral tradition. Some of the information may be anecdotal and some may be factual.  The following information is taken from letters written to Walter McCausland by descendants of WAF and from contacts who had helpful information.  Factual or not, it’s interesting material. 

In 1959, J.E. Wade wrote “in 1838, Warren A. Ferris owned 7 to 9 Toby Scrips, each one calling for 640 acres of Texas land.  In 1850, when Warren had the contract to survey Dallas County, he moved onto the only section of land which was located in Dallas County. The Warren (Ferris) family cemetery has been desecrated, even the skulls taken out and displayed…and nobody doing anything about it. The Ferris heirs will have to show more interest in the cemetery if they expect help.” 

Walter McCausland obtained notes written by 75-year-old Robert Cole, a local resident who lived near the Ferris Cemetery.  Mr. Cole recalled "They (Ferris and wife) gave a small plot of land to the community to be used for a burial ground, here both lie buried- the mother died in 1872.  He died 1874, one small daughter and son by the first wife, Bud, also buried in the cemetery.  The summer of 1890 (I was ten years old at the time), Robert Ferris (son of Warren) and a childhood friend named Wess Chenault, worked to clear the brush and vines from their old family graves and built a fence around their burial lots, as the lots were together.  Eighty years ago, this old cemetery had many nice gravestones and markers, but to date, vandals have destroyed and hauled away all these stones.”  According to Mr. Cole, Robert’s son, Jack Ferris, said he remembered his father describing this event as well. At that time, the Chenault gravestone was still standing, and the Ferris graves were located.  

Mr. Cole also spoke of an old log house located one hundred yards from the old Ferris cemetery.  It is assumed that the house described is the old Ferris homestead. “There is where the James boys, Jesse, Frank, and their gang lived in the winter of 1872-73.  Here is where they buried their gold.  It was taken out the winter of 1889 or 1890.  In the old Ferris home is where Sam Bass and his gang lived while planning the holdup of the Texas and Pacific train at Mesquite, which was to be his last, as was shot and killed a while later at Round Rock.” There are no known photos of Ferris or the original homestead, but Mr. Cole stated that there was “a pencil drawing of the old Ferris home from memory- destroyed about 1903 – Forrest Hills - Bonnieview and St. Francis.” This record is held at the Hall of State Library in Dallas, Texas.

Mr. Cole was concerned that neglect, vandalism, and urban sprawl threatened the total loss of the cemetery as only ½ acre remained. He and some Ferris ancestors were unsuccessful in their attempt to have governing authorities preserve the cemetery and have a historic marker erected.  The Dallas Times Herald interviewed Mr. Cole and published an article in June 1956 describing the threats to the cemetery and the possibility that it would eventually be “swallowed up” by construction.

1956 Dallas Times Herald article about Warren Ferris Cemetery

Fortunately for the Forest Hills neighborhood and for the descendants of those buried in the cemetery, there’s been great progress made in preserving what remains of the Ferris cemetery.  In 1988, the Texas Historical Commission erected a historical marker (#6912) on St. Francis Avenue in honor of the cemetery. As mentioned before, this marker was championed by Suzanne Starling. In 2018, a neighbor of the cemetery, Julie Ann Fineman, founded the non-profit group “Friends of the Warren Ferris Cemetery” with the goal of restoring the cemetery landscape and honoring those buried there.  The organization recruits neighbors, volunteers, and descendants to support the restoration.  Their efforts are priceless to the community, the city, the environment, and to the Ferris descendants. 

The Ferris-Lovejoy documents are available for public viewing but must be done in person. The process of requesting an appointment is done on-line through the L. Tom Perry Special Collection Department website. Collection: Ferris and Lovejoy family papers | BYU Library - Special Collections.  The original diary of Ferris’ wanderings from 1830–1835 entitled “Life in the Rocky Mountains” was apparently destroyed in a fire, but the stories were preserved through print in the Western Literary Messenger of Buffalo N.Y. during his lifetime. The entire diary may be read on-line at this website: Introduction to Life in the Rocky Mountains, by W. A. Ferris (mtmen.org)

Descendants of those buried in the Warren Ferris Cemetery and anyone interested in sharing historical information about the cemetery are encouraged to write with stories, additions, and corrections.  Please contact me at greyhairfarm@yahoo.com

Written by Christine Cohen.

Great granddaughter (X3) of Warren Angus Ferris. Great granddaughter (X2) of Henry Ferris.